Under the Same Sky
by Hazel-Beka
Summary: Roderich and Vash find themselves stuck together on a ski lift in the Swiss Alps. Roderich notices how beautiful Switzerland is. Vash doesn't notice that he's every bit as beautiful as his country. Switzerland/Austria-ish


**A/N - This is my second fill for the Valentines exchange over on LJ. I didn't quite follow the prompt, which was to end with them laughing about old times, because I love the awkwardness in the relationship between these two and I didn't want to take that away from them (I know, the point of a prompt is to please other people, I'm sorry XD). This is the shortest fic I've ever written, it's more of a drabble really, but since the other fill I did was fairly long, I guess that's OK...in any case, both of these fills have made me realise that I have a real fetish for description XD Anyway, tell me what you think and I hope you enjoy it!**

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**Under the Same Sky**

The late afternoon light fell in a series of lazy sunbeams, glittering on the blanket of snow that covered the ground. The mountainside below stretched out towards the unseen bottom of the ski lift, near which the train was waiting patiently to carry the skiers back to their hotels in the nearby town where they would sleep until the next day dawned and then journey once again into the midst of the Swiss Alps. There were still some skiers even now on the slopes, determined to see out the last of the daylight, their energy not yet depleted. Above them, weary and contented on the ski lift, the rest of the day's visitors sat watching them, letting the ache of hours of exertion creep steadily out of their bones.

Roderich Edelstein was one of the watchers, sitting in silence and staring down at the coloured figures on the snow. Lifting his gaze, he took in the rest of the landscape, looking up at the sharp, clear blue of the sky, and down at the shadows that were steadily deepening on the snow. He tried to ignore the burning eyes of the man sat next to him, whose gaze was painfully searing a hole through Roderich's head.

"I didn't know you were in Switzerland," the man suddenly spoke up accusingly. Roderich let the words linger, hot and heavy, in the air for a moment, not turning to the speaker but letting his gaze stay captivated by the view.

"I didn't realise I had to tell you," he replied, and the sun dropped a little further down towards the horizon in the gradually darkening sky. Beside him, he sensed rather than saw the way that Vash's fingers tightened around the ski poles, his knuckles turned red earlier by the cold now whitening.

"I'd have thought it would be a common courtesy," Vash snapped. "Why are you even here? You have your own section of the Alps, don't you?" The anger in his tone hurt a little, like the sting of icy shards upon skin, but Roderich understood all too well the awkward tension between them that was irritating Vash. So he merely shrugged and continued to look down at the skiers. There was a pause of silence, but then Vash said sharply, "It's polite to look at someone when they're talking to you."

Reluctantly, Roderich turned from the mountains, only to see them reflected in Vash's cold, burning gaze. In his eyes was all of the timeless, unearthly majesty of the Alps, the still and unmoveable peace of the valleys, and the wild blue shades of the Swiss winter sky. Every beat of his heart was the movement of mountains, the paleness of his skin the snow on the peaks. And behind that, somewhere, buried deep in a precious place, a history shone between them like the sun. Switzerland in all its glory slept under Vash's skin, quietly earthed in the centre of his being in a way that Roderich had never really noticed before, even though he had known that it was there all along. For a moment, he stared and let it steal his breath away.

"Your country is beautiful," he said after a moment. Vash's eyes widened and he flushed a deep shade of red, turning quickly away to stare out at the landscape, so flustered that he didn't even realise he was looking at his own reflection.

"I know," he muttered, embarrassed and proud, and maybe even a little bit pleased to hear the words falling from Roderich's lips.

The rest of the journey was silent and beautiful, the air thrumming quietly with unspoken thoughts. It didn't take long for their chair to reach the bottom of the ski lift, where they both stood and moved a little way onto the snow. Instead of making a hasty escape from each other, however, they paused for a moment in awkward, expectant silence, looking everywhere but at the other. Roderich breathed the cold Swiss air deep, deep into his lungs.

"Next time I plan to visit Switzerland," he said, "I'll let you know." And he smiled a little hesitantly, realising suddenly that he couldn't remember the last time he had smiled at Vash. But Vash only nodded and fidgeted slightly, as if there were something he wanted to say but was holding inside, hidden under the snow. As the moment drew out for too long and the awkwardness started to become oppressive, Roderich turned and started to walk away. He hadn't taken more than a few paces, however, when Vash suddenly found his voice and called after him in a rush of shamefully honest words.

"Roderich," he called, and their eyes met briefly above the shine of the snow in the sun, "I think your country is beautiful too." And then he was gone, almost running to avoid any chance of a response, his face coloured crimson and his muscles tensed tightly as he strode away from the backdrop of mountains - and Roderich.

And Roderich watched him, surprised and maybe a little bit pleased by the outburst. His smile grew, and even though Vash couldn't see it, the warmth of the sun that had shone on their childhood had risen again in his eyes.


End file.
